


The Scent Of Black Leather

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Frottage, Glove Kink, Gloves, Leather Kink, M/M, Roleplay, Sex Games, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 22:29:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2126883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merthur fic. Written whilst watching S1 for tseecka. Merlin has a fondness for Arthur, certainly, but it’s nothing like his fondness for Arthur’s leather gloves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Scent Of Black Leather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tseecka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tseecka/gifts).



Merlin is quiet as he watches the other man carefully, content in his silence with his lips pressed together, his expression attentive. Arthur is trying to pick gooseberries, and for the job he has his leather gloves on.

He’s careful and almost religious about it – Merlin had offered to complete the job for him, but with a little gentle ribbing Arthur had indignantly insisted that he could pick them  _himself_ , thank you, Merlin, because he is a  _prince_  and he is  _strong_ , and he can pick some bloody fat berries.

Arthur has pocks and marks all over his wrists that Merlin will put balm on later, of course.

But more importantly, he’s wearing those black leather  _gloves_  to do so, and now and then he’ll draw his hand up to his face and suckle at the tip of his own finger despite there being leather between his tongue and the injured pad itself.

Merlin moves closer, grabs Arthur by the back of the belt and pulls him back from the bush. This time he pulls Arthur’s hand to his own lips, very slowly wrapping his lips around the other’s index finger and feeling the rough leather beneath his tongue.

He inhales, because he likes the  _scent_  of the stuff, and he wants to make it that bit more obvious to Arthur what he’s hinting at. The man does tend to need a  _lot_  of hints before he understands something Merlin wants, after all.

Arthur pulls his finger from the other’s mouth, and then he presses his hand over the smaller man’s mouth, the leather tight against his skin and intended to prevent him from speaking.

“Really, Merlin? It’s midday.”

The warlock responds with an uncaring hum that is half muffled against the leather. Arthur grins a little, and then he pulls Merlin into the bushes, throws him on the ground. He pulls Merlin’s trousers down in a rough fashion, so that his arse is pressed against the ground below, and Merlin arches, laughing a little.

“Come  _on_ , for God’s sake, for a prince with all this bravado you can be quick- _mmf-_ ” Arthur throws his head back against the ground, one hand pressed hard against his mouth, the other wrapping around his cock. The leather is _dry_ , and initially Merlin chokes out a noise.

Arthur  _coos_  at him, and says, “Aww, does that hurt?” It’s sarcastic, and it’s half whispered – no one is around them, no one at all, but Arthur likes the game they play. So with that, Merlin begins to struggle, but Arthur keeps him pinned easily, with all the strength he has.

Merlin  _could_  use magic, really. If he wanted. If Arthur  _knew._

“God, I can do whatever I want to you, Merlin.” This is the game Arthur likes. Playing at thinking Merlin’s a toy, playing at ownership, playing at  _control._ He’d never really do it – but he likes to pretend. Pretty prince loves playing Imagine.

Merlin struggles, letting out a whimper, but Arthur keeps the other pinned with his left hand over Merlin’s mouth, and then he licks his right hand, the glove’s leather shining with spittle, before grasping at Merlin’s cock again.

 _Bugger,_  that’s good.

Merlin closes his eyes tightly this time, and he lifts his hands into the other man’s grip, gasping for air as best he can around Arthur’s hand. He grasps at the other’s wrist, pulling at it uselessly, and Arthur laughs, rapidly undoing his own trousers.

“Wh- _mmf_ -” Arthur withdraws his hands only to press his thumb into Merlin’s mouth, pulling at his cheek to stop him speaking. And it actually feels  _good_ , so good, as Arthur lines himself up against the other man and  _rubs_  their cocks together.

His hands are on Merlin’s face, both of them, and they are  _wonderful_ , the leather scent strong and good and the texture of them perfect on his skin – he lets out choked little noises as Arthur thrusts his hips against Merlin’s own, and he feigns struggle. When the hands finally draw away he pretends to beg in hushed tones, and he delights in the way Arthur’s cheeks turn red.

“Please, please, my lord, let me  _go_ , I don’t- swordplay is not for men like I, I-” Merlin is cut off by a particularly good thrust, and he mewls out a noise. “My _prince_ , Arthur, allow me- let me go- I don’t  _want_  to-” And then Arthur presses his thumb against Merlin’s tongue again, and Merlin  _groans_  around it, thrusting his hips up.

“I think you want it.” He says breathlessly, trying to be commanding and succeeding only in making Merlin’s arousal coil tighter in his belly. “You’re a liar, Merlin, you want me to  _have_  you, have you and  _fuck_  between your thighs, and paint your skin with my-  _ah_ \- spend-”

Arthur is terrible at dirty talk, but if he ignores the words and concentrates on Arthur’s excited tone and flushed face and Arthur’s  _cock_ , Merlin can stand it just fine. Arthur comes, and Merlin feels the other man’s come wetly on his own cock, and then Arthur leans, putting his mouth to his servant’s neck and biting  _down_  on the flesh there.

The mark is wide and red and it won’t deal for days, even with a poultice from Gaius.

Which is exactly what Arthur wants, in all complete honesty.

Merlin comes with his eyes tightly shut and a quiet moan on his lips, and when Arthur pulls back he is  _satisfied._  He pulls up his own trousers, and Merlin glances around for a leaf to wipe himself, but Arthur pulls off one of his gloves. He grasps Merlin’s cock and it feels like he’s rubbing the stuff  _into_ Merlin’s skin, just a little too roughly, and it’s  _dirty_ , really dirty, and Merlin lets out quiet, sharp noises as his own cheeks flush red.

That’s  _disgusting._  And uncomfortable,  _really_  uncomfortable.

He’s not going to be able to get this off him until late evening, when he can run a bath. He’s going to be stuck with his and Arthur’s  _come_  on his skin for the rest of the day.

Arthur grins at him.

“You  _bastard._ ” Merlin says, and Arthur beams at him, the picture of innocence as he pulls up the other’s trousers.

“You shouldn’t speak to your prince that way, Merlin. He might get  _upset._ ”  


End file.
